One week later, looking back

"The tasks are done and the tears are shed.Yesterday's errors let yesterday cover;Yesterday's wounds, which smarted and bled,Are healed with the healing that night has shed."  Sarah Chauncey Woolsey



      It has been one week today since I finished my first marathon and it has been the top of my mind all week. I’m still shocked when I see the medal hanging on my dresser mirror.
       The first couple of days were admittedly tough, my quads and hamstrings were very sore and going down stairs was a challenge (backwards didn’t help either.) This was put to the test on Tuesday night when I escorted 50 teenagers I was chaperoning down 3 flight of stairs, ACK! I made it though, with much laughter and hanging on to the banister rails. I did get on a stationary bike for 20 minutes on Monday, and I think that helped to loosen things up.

       By Wednesday I was down to a minimal level of soreness, not enough to affect movement, but I could still feel the miles a bit. My biggest fear about running a marathon was what the repercussions would be for my Rheumatoid Arthritis. I was prepared for a flare up, knowing it was a good possibility after pushing so hard for so long, but it never came.

       Thursday was my first recovery run following Hal Higdon’s reverse taper. It was a tough two miles. My legs felt like lead and I was as tired as I normally would be after 10 miles at a good pace. It definitely helped though, my legs felt good afterwards and I didn’t feel wiped out. I have to admit, breathing deep really made me feel the marathon. Although I was never to the point of huffing and puffing during the race, and I could always talk in sentences, I was obviously breathing harder than a walk in the park and my lungs and chest muscles were reminding me all 5 hours.

       Friday was a rest day and all soreness was long gone. I was starting to feel caught up on sleep (late nights Monday and Tuesday seriously put this off) but still a long way from truly recovered. I can certainly see why they say you need a day of rest for every mile you race, a marathon is not something you get over in a couple of days. (This does not mean no running for 26 days, just that you shouldn’t expect to be up to full mileage for that long.)

       Saturday I ran 3 more miles, feeling even stronger and no longer feeling it when I took a deep breath. The run went well and my dog was very happy to be out trotting through the neighborhood again.

       The schedule for today said “6-8 mile run”. I probably shouldn’t have actually gone as far as 6 miles since the schedule was set up for people that run a lot faster than me and can finish 6 miles in significantly less time, but I did it anyway. I included a lot of walking and chatted on the phone for a good part of it, but it was a comfortable run with a very low average heart rate.

        As for my feet, shins and calves; they recovered much faster than my upper legs. I really expected to have problems there considering the distance and the issues I have had over the last 6 months. My VFFs served me well, but I do look forward to my first truly barefoot marathon. I won’t try to predict when that will be, but it is part of my working plan to continue increasing my barefoot distance and the variety of surfaces I can handle running on. My 2 mile run on Thursday and the 6 miles today were both barefoot, compliments of the lovely weather. (Yesterday was a bit nippy so those 3 miles were in VFFs.)

          All and all I would say my first week post marathon went very well and to me that is the real telling of how I did with the marathon. Not only did I finish, but I finished without any injuries, did not cause a flare up of my RA, and am recovering like a typical marathon runner. What more could I ask for! If I never run any faster and never feel any better after a marathon, I will still be happy to run them. I already can barely remember the misery of those last 6 miles and this is coming from a woman who still remembers every contraction of delivering 2 babies! I will continue to follow the reverse taper schedule up to my Ultra on the 17th of April and then start it all over again. I don’t see this marathon as a onetime flash in the pan, I see it as the beginning of a new stage in my life that I hope will go on for many, many years.

           I certainly plan to train more for my next marathon and I hope eventually to cope better with The Wall. I read in Runner’s World that it takes the average person 4 full training cycles with races to really know what they are doing. I’m sure one never truly stops learning from each and every race, but it is the first few that really open your eyes and make you say, “Okay, NOW I get it!” I also had a great talk yesterday with the lady from my club who ran 50 marathons in 50 states. Picking her brain about her experiences during and after marathons was very encouraging. I’ve learned a ton about running a marathon this week, but I know the distance still has a great deal to teach me and I’m ready to learn!   .....But first I need a few more restful weeks of running to finish recovering :-)

Biting off a bit too much

It doesn't work to leap a twenty-foot chasm in two ten-foot jumps. American Proverb


Biting off more than I can chew is a common theme in my life. Most of the time I can chew fast enough to survive, but sometimes I just have to spit it out and start over.


After my first 10 mile long run of the year I thought to myself, “Hey, maybe I can jump into an entry level marathon training plan and run the Shamrock Full.” I was already trained for HM distance with runs up to 14 miles, so why not just keep going. I decided if I could finish a 15 mile long run and still walk, I would register for the full marathon. Of course, this is a bad time of year for weather and running barefoot or in my Vibram Five Fingers (VFF) is not possible most days, so a little over 2 weeks ago I put on my trail shoes and hit the road in the rain. It is possible to run with near barefoot form in a minimal show if you pay attention, but apparently I was not paying enough attention because by the end of the 4 mile run my shins were tender.


I haven’t had shin splints in a long time and running barefoot has never caused shin splints so I figured if I ran in my VFFs for my long run the next day, I would be okay. It was a total rookie mistake. Although I believe very fervently in barefoot and minimal shoe running, it is not a panacea and you can still easily do too much too soon. I might have been okay with a 15 mile run if I hadn’t spent the morning standing and freezing to death working the finish line of a 10K first. Shivering takes a lot out of you and running when you are tired tends to ruin your form, not a good combination. I went running anyway and after my 15 mile run that afternoon my calves felt like rocks and my shin was very sore. The next morning I could hardly walk because of the shin splint in my right leg, so I did not register for the marathon and took the next two days off.


I should have waited until all the soreness cleared up, but I didn’t. I went for a 4 mile run on Tuesday. It went okay and although my shin was slightly sorer in the morning, it wasn’t as sore as it had been the morning after my 15 miler so I somehow convinced myself that this meant running was helping. When the thermometer hit 50 degrees with dry roads and sunshine, I went for a barefoot run and ran for 8 miles. This was like throwing gasoline on a fire. I could feel burning in my shin, but still thought I could work around it. I finished the 8 miles, but the next morning my shins were horrible again. I never realized just how bad shin splints could get since I’ve never been able to see evidence of one from the outside, but after the 8 mile run my shin looked like someone had hit me with a baseball bat. I had a huge goose egg on the front of my shin and swelling from the top of my ankle to half way to my knee.


I decided it was time to get serious about healing and took the rest of the week off and didn’t try running again until this past Wednesday, nearly a full week. This time I just tried a 3 mile run and it went well. Not totally free of tenderness, but it didn’t seem to make it worse either. The next day I tried 5 miles, still so far so good. I took Friday off and like a total moron resumed my marathon training schedule and ran 16 miles Saturday. It went surprisingly well and probably would have been fine if I had stopped at 14, but of course, I didn’t. I wish I knew what my driving force was because I need to turn it off once in a while. I was miserable, the falling rain and snow mix stung my face, and I hurt all over from being tense. I finished though, all 16 miles. The walk breaks were more frequent at the end and I was down to a 13 minute mile, but I kept plodding until it was done.


This morning my shin hurts and is swollen again so I still haven’t registered for the marathon. I can’t imagine adding another 10 miles to my run 6 weeks from now. Of course, my shin isn’t anywhere near as sore as it was after my 15 mile run, so there is still a part of my brain taunting me and telling me I can do this. I wish I could shut that part up and just let my leg heal. I need to learn when to quit, but I know darn well that I’ll run again on Tuesday after a 2 day rest, and that if I can run Saturday morning, I’ll run another long run. And if I can run after that, I may still register for the full marathon. I know; I’m insane. 18, 14, 20, 12, 8, those are the long runs left on the schedule. I don’t know if I can do them. I don’t know if I even WANT to do them, but I won’t stop trying. I’m still planning on the 24-hour relay in April so I still need to keep adding mileage.

I hadn’t broadcast my intentions about the Shamrock full because I know I’m not really ready and with RA, I need to be more than ready. It just seems like I should try to get my first out of the way in a local race and before we leave the country again. Often announcing a commitment will also make me push myself way too hard, although it worked for me with my first half marathon. The bottom line is that I have too many other things going on in my life to sacrifice them all to meet a goal I am not ready for. I may yet run the full marathon, I may not. It may sell out before I make a decision, but that is okay, there will be others later when I’m more prepared. The only promise I make is that I won’t give up, and that I will work on respecting my body and its limits, which at this point seems harder than actually running 26.2.

Be an Eagle, GET OVER IT!

Every plant knows this: It’s only when you get crap thrown on you that you really start to grow. ** Scott Sorrell**

It has been a very long and stressful week since my 5K PR. The 9 miles on Sunday went okay, but I was pretty worn out from the race. The rest of the week went pretty much downhill from there. I think I am more stressed about Rusty leaving than I have let myself feel. Unfortunately, rheumatoid arthritis is very sensitive to stress and I have been getting little red flags all week. Saturday, I worked two back to back races, 5K and half marathon, and several hours of standing followed by a 5 mile run was too much for my feet. Saturday night they swelled up like balloons.

I was so upset that I let myself go on a major pity party this morning. I typed a long whiny blog about the details of each crummy run and all the things I hate about arthritis. Then I decided to get the heck over it. I put on my Brooks running shoes and wore them around the house for a while to see how my feet felt with some padding and then decided to hit the road.

I took it very easy and walked a tenth of each mile, but I felt good and got slightly faster as the miles went by. Now I’m tired, but it is a good tired, not the sick tired that I was afraid I would be. I’m still a bit tender from the RA, but my mind feels better and I’ve gained a lot of confidence knowing that if I had run my half marathon today, even being under the weather, I could have finished and probably even improved my time. Running in shoes was the pits, but worth the price to be able to run. Hopefully by my next run on Tuesday I will be back to bare, but if not, that is okay too, as long as I can run.

Most Challenging Run

"Diamonds are nothing more than chunks of coal that stuck to their jobs." **Malcolm Stevenson Forbes**

Sometimes things can go very wrong, but turn out right. Yesterday was one of those days. Earlier in the week I had hurt myself doing a stretch with the wrong form in my yoga class. I’m sure I should have let the 8 kilometer race go and just helped out, but I figured I’d run anyway and just take it easy and enjoy the scenery. After all, the race was through the Yorktown Battlegrounds on a beautiful Independence Day!

We were tardy getting out the door and it was a long walk from the parking lot to the race start so, by the time I threw in a last minute port-a-potty stop, I barely made it to the back of the crowd when the start was signaled! There were only about 400 people so it didn’t take all that much time to get to the start line, but it struck me right away that the pavement was very washed out and rough. No matter, I thought, I can deal with it by running in the grass at the side of the road. This worked for about ¼ mile.

The road continued to get worse as we entered the woods. The areas on the side of the road turned into weeds that concealed big chunks of rocks and gravel, with trees and shrubs very close to the road. I found if I looked for places where the top layer of pavement, a coarse later addition to the original pavement, was worn away it was smooth enough to be comfortable, but this too was short lived. All I could think about was running fast. I wanted this race over as soon as possible and the faster I ran, the less it hurt. Unfortunately, I couldn’t maintain that speed for long.

The terrain changed constantly: wooden bridges, woods, fields; sometimes there was a nice grassy shoulder, other times it was steep and uneven. My hips were starting to hurt from all the crazy angles and constantly being ready to recover from stepping into a hole or unseen hazard hidden in the grass and weeds. I’m sure I added a lot of distance to my run, zig-zagging back and forth across the road looking for the least chewed up patches of pavement, or a bit of softer even grass on the other side.

I was sorely tempted to flag down the little gas powered golf cart that was zipping around and beg it for a ride to the end, but that would mean admitting defeat. If I arrived at the finish line by anything other than my own two feet, everyone would simply nod and say, “Of course it is too hard to run barefoot! Were you crazy?” My ankle hurt, but not as bad as the soles of my feet. I was tense and exhausted from the extreme concentration it took to keep my footing in the tangles of rocks, roots, and weeds on the side of the path. Every muscle in my body ached, but I was making good time. As the miles ticked away, I started thinking again that I could make it.

Then, with 1.3 miles left, the runners were directed off road onto a narrow gravel path. You would think that after the horrible pavement, gravel wouldn’t be much worse, but it was big chunks of cut limestone, and they were the last straw. There was no side of the path to escape to. The path itself was so narrow that I had to stop walking and stand aside in places to let runners pass me. I had no idea how far we had to continue on the gravel, but there was only one way out, and that was to keep moving forward. I dug deep and continued to gingerly pick my way across the gravel like a cat in a puddle.

Finally, with about ¼ of a mile left, I was back on the pavement, but it wasn’t welcoming at all. As we came out of the woods, the open field next to the road was recently mowed and very dry so the blades of hay were sharp and deeper than my ankle. I had to get pretty far off the road to get away from the rocks, and then cut back across to go through the finishing chute. I’ve never been so happy to see a finish line in my life!!! My husband met me with my slides and I put them on before I even handed in my tag or left the chute! Humorously, the curmudgeon from my track club, who has been the only person to be sarcastic and derisive about my barefoot running, was just outside the end of the chute. He glanced down at my feet and said, “That is cheating to be running in those!” As if I had run 5 miles in my sandals! I was in no mood to be nice so I shot him a withering look and said, “I did NOT put these on until AFTER I crossed the finish line!” He shrank back, muttering an apology and I walked on. My husband, who was pretty much done with standing around bored, wanted to get home to prepare for holiday guests so we headed straight back to the car.

After a cool shower and careful scrubbing of my feet, I looked them over for damage. I was amazed to find I didn’t have a single blister! I am, however, rather bruised, my ankle is tender again, and my hips will be sore for a couple of days. When all is said and done, I believe this race did a lot for improving my form. I had to be totally precise in how I set down and picked up my feet, no matter how tired I got. I had to use my abs and hips to control my gait, and had to keep going when I wanted nothing more than to take my ball and go home. This was one of the most mentally challenging things I’ve ever done.

I believe we benefit every time we challenge ourselves and rising to a challenge, even a self imposed one, builds strength. We can sit around and let our muscles atrophy until we are too feeble to get out of a chair, or we can hit the gym and build muscles so they are there when we need them. I believe mental fortitude can be similarly built by finding challenges and rising to the occasion. Our lives are too easy for normal daily activities build our bodies enough, and it is the same for our minds. In our safe little world, we are often complacent, jaded, and totally unprepared when tragedy strikes. As I prepare to send my first born across the country, and my husband across the world, I wonder if I will have the strength to deal with the realities that may come my way. During the course of the race I was called a warrior, said to have iron feet, and told I am tough. I don’t think I am any of those things; I’m just a lump of coal hoping that someday I will have the strength of a diamond when I need it.

**Special thanks to Mike Angelo, the Peninsula Track Club photographer, for the great pictures!**

If running barefoot is a mistake, it is mine to make

"Freedom is not worth having if it does not include the freedom to make mistakes."
**Mahatma Gandi**

I had a fantastic run today. It wasn’t long (only 3 miles), it wasn’t fast (actually, I didn’t check so it might have been), but I was focused and it was beautiful outside with the birds and trees, and all the things that make it wonderful to be outside and full of life.

I’m learning to be much less conscious of running barefoot. Not that I don’t watch the road, pay close attention to my form, or forget that I’m shoeless, but rather that I don’t brace myself for comments or funny looks by people I pass. It adds to the sense of freedom when you can finally let go of the fear of scrutiny.

On Saturday, I met a couple from my running club at the trail head for a 5 mile run. The whole area was buzzing with activity, people stretching, chatting, beginning and finishing their runs or walks. I had never seen so many people there at once! With so many people came many comments: “Where are your shoes?” “Did you forget your shoes?” “Why aren’t you wearing shoes?” Some people are just looking for a smile and a wave, others really want an explanation. When that is the case, I’ll talk with them for a few minute, enjoying how they relax as the understanding of what I’m doing takes away the concern and tension on their faces. In one case, a gentleman was very worried that I didn’t know what I was in store for. He kept listing the hazards of rocks, twigs, gravel, and broken oyster shells one at a time, as if one more danger would snap me back to reality and send me scrambling back to my car for my running shoes, horrified at the near miss by disaster. There was only one negative response, an old granny pushing a stroller scowled at me with all the disdain and disapproval she could muster. I found it rather sad that she would waste so much energy on a complete stranger that was not threatening her in any way.

Sunday I was sore from a couple of blisters obtained while sliding up and down the hills on the trail, probably because I wasn’t focused enough on my form, due to the overwhelming heat and humidity dominating my thoughts. I figured 3 miles around the neighborhood would be alright though, so I clipped the leash of the dog, and headed out. Again, it was hot and sticky and I had to stop 3 or 4 times to give water to my panting pooch, who was becoming less and less enthusiastic about “walkies” by the minute. Unfortunately, with my focus on the dog, and still being tired from the day before, my form was horrible and I ended up with sore calves and stinging feet.

Which brings me to today. I really didn’t feel like running, my feet hurt, it was already getting hot, and I was tired from not sleeping well, but I knew I wouldn’t get to run tomorrow and with a race coming up on Saturday, I needed to get my runs for the week in early so I can rest for a couple of days before the race. I decided not to take the dog, but to really focus on my form and figure out what is giving me blisters. The first mile was agonizing. I didn’t want to be there, but I concentrated on keeping my torso straight, my knees bent, picking up my feet, and staying aerobic. The second mile was better and I was finally feeling into the groove enough to let my mind wander a bit. Near the end of the second mile, I passed an older lady out for a walk who looked at me astonished, and blurted, “You’re running without shoes?!” To which I replied, “Yes, Ma’am!” Her comeback was, “[laughing] You must be from Carolina.” “Nope, California.” I could hear her laughter as we continued in our opposite directions. Shortly after beginning my last mile, a police officer on a motorcycle rolled up next to me. I thought to myself, “Oh great, here it comes, he is going to tell me I have to have shoes on.” The police in my little town are well known for being a bit over the top, mostly because they don’t have a lot to do. He looked at me curiously, no doubt watching my body language to get a read on whether I was up to no good or not, and then started the usual conversation, “Runnin’ without shoes?” “Yes, Sir” followed by my list of reasons to run barefoot. He responded with chatter about how he never wore shoes as a kid, slipping in a question about where exactly I lived, and for the next half mile we discussed kids, TV, races etc. By the end of the interview, I guess he decided I was harmless, told me to have a Blessed Day, and motored away. I’ll never know if he spotted me on a routine round of the neighborhood (I’ve never seen a motorcycle cop in my neighborhood in 2 years of running here) or if someone called to complain about a raving lunatic running barefoot down the street, but it is nice to know I passed the test and now have police consent to be running unshod.

Hills, Heat, and Bare Feet: 10K race report

“Follow the path of the unsafe, independent thinker. Expose your ideas to the dangers of controversy. Speak your mind and fear less the label of 'crackpot' than the stigma of conformity. And on issues that seem important to you, stand up and be counted at any cost.”
**Thomas J. Watson**

WOW! What a day! I ran my first barefoot (BF) race!

I signed up for the "Chesty" Puller Memorial 10K, long before I considered running it BF. I was warned it was a tough one, just like its name sake, the Marine hero Chesty Puller. We ran past his childhood home, up over a huge bridge, back over the bridge, and then over and back on another huge bridge. That is 4 Bridge crossings in 6.2 miles, with the thermometer nearing 80, and the humidity at about 90%. I haven't run a 10K since the Turkey Trot back in November of 2007, when it was cool and flat, so I really wasn't planning on a personal record. Once I decided to run it BF, my goal was simply to finish without shoes or blood.

The number one question I was asked was, "Why are you running barefoot?" My answer was honed down to: 1. To improve my running form, 2. To rebuild the muscles in my feet, 3. To slow or halt the damage of RA to my toes, and 4. To decrease the impact on my joints when I run. Generally the person would focus on one of these and ask more questions.

I got a lot of positive comments along the route, including a shout of, "Impressive!" from one of the front runners passing me after the turnaround, COOL! The best part was that my back didn't ache after my run, and any joint that started to hurt caused me to reassess my form and fine tune it, which always made the tenderness fade away. My single biggest problem was the bridges. Not because they were high, which they were, or because they were steep, which they also were, but because the concrete was grooved to give the cars traction. The grooves consisted of a deep ¼ inch wide cut, every ½ inch. I had to really focus hard on my form to keep from scuffing my feet going up or down. There was also a lot of debris on the road. I'm guessing there are a lot of logging trucks that pass through this area because the side of the road was littered with large and small chunks of wood, in addition to the usual gravel and junk that accumulates on the side of the road. It turned out that the wood wasn't a problem, and I only hit one rock hard with the outside edge of my foot. I ran the next 10 minutes with that foot falling always on the painted white line and by the time I had to turn off, it was feeling much better. With ½ mile left to go, I was feeling a blister coming on just below my second toe. Again, I checked my form, relaxed, and focused on not popping it with a twist or a scuff of my foot. It worked because my Garmin recorded my last .1 of a mile with a 7.5 minute per mile sprint and my blister never opened up.

The break down of the mile splits were:
Mile 1 (11:31) "Okay, cool, I can do this, the pavement isn't too bad."
Mile 2 (11:42) "Yikes! That is a really big bridge!"
Mile 3 (11:02) "So far so good, the bridge isn't so bad, I can do it again. This is a nice neighborhood, kind of need to resurface the road though."
Mile 4 (11:41) "Crap, another dang bridge."
Mile 5 (11:07) "OMG, will this bridge ever end!"
Mile 6 (11:14) "This road is a LOT rougher than it was on the first pass."
Mile 6.1 (0:40) "To heck with it, I'm sprinting across the finish line!"
Post race, "Can I have a second bottle of water to pour on my steaming feet?"


Sitting on the steps watching the awards being given, I talked to a couple full of questions. The wife, who won the first place plaque for my age group, was really interested in how BF running has taken away my back pain, a constant problem for her. I lamented the fact that if I had been 6 months younger, I would have had a 3rd place plaque (seriously, who would have thought women over 40 were SO fast!) All in all, I may have limped a bit walking back to my car, but it was so worth it! I'm tired, but not as tired as I usually am after a race. My feet are a bit sore from the blisters, but not from the muscle fatigue that I usually have after a long run. Most of all I'm excited to be part of the small minority that has the courage to kick off their shoes and go for it.

Morning after post script: This morning the mild tenderness in my hips (most likely due to hills) is gone, the blisters are dried and don’t hurt, and everything else feels great! I’ll take a couple of days off to rest, but I can’t wait for my next barefoot adventure!

Feeling Prepared

Feeling prepared

I have to type fast this morning because it will be a crazy day! The packed schedule for this weekend is what prompted me to run my long run yesterday. I knew I would feel better knowing I had it behind me.

It was the first really good running day we have had in a couple of weeks. Temps were in the very low 70's, overcast skies, and almost drizzling, MY FAVORITE!! Actually, totally perfect would have been temps in the 60's, but heck, for June in the South I'll take it.

I started out with plans to just make it a 6 mile LSD, but most of all, I didn't want to watch my Garmin like a hawk. I needed a relaxed feel good run so, although I did take it with me and wore my chest strap, I put it on my fuel belt and left it alone. My first 4 miles were at a comfortable pace, breathing easy 3 steps in and 3 steps out, with the occasional yawn or deep cleansing breath. As usual, the first mile was tough, second was comfortable, third was tough, and the rest was smooth sailing.

After mile 4 I decided to step it up and finish my run strong. I push some, but not hard, again avoiding my Garmin and going by feel and breathing. At mile 5 I decided to do a complete 10K, and really push my last 1.2 miles. As I stepped it up, warmed up and feeling really good, I increased my breathing rate, but never pushed to the point of huffing and puffing. The temp had crept up a bit and I was drenched in sweat, but it was still comfortable and not stifling like a few days ago. I finished feeling exhilarated, but drained. I definitely put in a good effort, but not a race effort.

When I got home and checked my Garmin, I was really pleased with my result. My slow comfortable miles had been around a 12:35 mpm, my slightly stepped up mile was 11:24 and my last fast mile was 10:15! The total for my 10K distance was almost to the second the same as the 10K I ran a year and a half ago, and I was really pushing then. I have a couple more weeks to get ready for my 10K on June 20th, but I'm really feeling good for a PR, despite the warnings I've gotten about the bridges. The biggest factor will be the weather. If it is hot and sticky, I won't shave much time off, but if it is cool, I will be golden!!

Bull Island 4 Miler Race Report

It was a beautiful day in Poquoson, our current home town. The sun was shining, there was a cool breeze and the bugs weren’t out yet. Poquoson is known for being the worst mosquito breeding ground in the area, so beating the bugs is a common running goal around here.

Our race started at the Poquoson Yacht club, a lovely little place way out on the far edge of town. I arrived, picked up my t-shirt and number and pulled off my overshirt to line up. It was really humid, despite the breeze and I knew, even though it was in the low 70’s, that the heat was going to get me before this was over, so I wore a running bra that didn’t have to be covered, knowing I was not going to be the only one with my tummy getting fresh air. Unfortunately, I didn’t get a good night’s sleep. I had woken up twice with cramps in my calves, which I haven’t had in years, and the dog got me up at 2:30 to go out. Along with being tired, I was just feeling off, but I lined up near the middle of the pack, and got ready to go.

As usual, the part of the pack I was in took off faster than I expected so right off the bat I was doing a 10 mpm pace. My goal was for that to be my average so I figured what the heck, I would just roll with it and try to keep that pace. I had my Garmin set up for a 40 minute/4 mile quick work out and turned on Fred, my virtual running partner. I decided not to look at time or heart rate, but just to try to stay a few steps ahead of Fred and monitor my breathing.

The first mile was rough as always. I was thinking I wasn’t going to reach my goal feeling so crummy and it was just too humid. I felt like I couldn’t get a good breath, or that there just wasn’t enough oxygen in the air. The second mile was better, I was starting to loosen up and get into a good rhythm and my breathing was a steady three steps in, three steps out. Early in this mile I started seeing the front runners passing me going back. At first I thought, “Oh good, I’m near the turn around.” Yeah, not so much. By the time I hit the turnaround most of the racers had passed me, including some really small kids and a couple of people that didn’t look like they could run to the end of a driveway. Being stomped on by 8 year olds does not do my ego any good! At the turn around I grabbed two cups of water. The first one I dumped down my back and front, the second I drank, and inhaled a little which gave me a momentary coughing fit (I know, I should know better by now.) The turnaround marked the beginning of my least favorite mile, #3.

The third mile is always my worst. For some reason my mind really messes with me here which is why I don’t care much for 5Ks, it is over just after the worst part. I needed to pick it up a little as I had lost a few seconds at the turnaround so I was behind Fred. I passed Fred not long after, but my breathing was beginning to deteriorate. I was breathing 3 in 2 out, then 2 in 2 out. The middle half of the race was through houses so the breeze was gone, and with it all the fresh air. I was really feeling like I wasn’t getting any air at all and my stomach was turning on me. I was thinking, here I am, wearing the skimpiest outfit I had ever run in, and now I’m going to be on the side of the road puking while everyone passes me, great!

I managed to hang on though and started into the last mile. I felt like I was still miles and miles from the finish line. Ahead of me were marshes with the black top winding through them in an endless ribbon. The runners were scattered as far as I could see, forward and back. Knowing this was my last mile lifted my spirits. If I could just hang onto this pace for 10 more minutes, I would be done and have met my goal. With about 2/3 of a mile left, I had to walk. I just felt like I couldn’t breathe and it was really getting to me. I walked for what seemed like ages, but I caught my breath a little and started to run again. With ½ mile left to go, I could see the tree tops and building where the finish was and decided to give it all I had. I gave in to running one breath in, one breath out and pushed. I caught and passed Fred (drop dead Fred!) and dug deep. I crossed the line with the clock reading 39:14. I DID IT!! One more goal met!
After drinking a bottle of water and walking around long enough to cool down, I finally headed into the yacht club for breakfast. The food was free for the runners and we each got orange juice, a cup of fresh fruit, three pancakes, and a beer. I think you have to run a few hard miles to really appreciate how a cold beer compliments pancakes.

Once everyone had eaten their fill, they gave out awards and turned us loose. My track club (of which I think I’m the newest member) had a pool party just down the street. This is the second time I’ve participated with the group and I have to say it is a fantastic bunch of people! It isn’t a hyper competitive or cut throat group, it is more of a social group that likes to have a good time, and we definitely did.

My next race is a 10K in 3 weeks. I was hoping to be ready to run a sub-60 minute race, but from the descriptions, this one won’t be it. There are a lot of steep bridges to cross, but it will be fun and bring me one step closer to my goal. I’m not in a hurry; I have the rest of my life to get there…

My Newest Adventure

"When childhood dies, its corpses are called adults and they enter society, one of the politer names of hell." **Brian W. Aldiss**


I'm not sure how it started, where I first noticed this new movement in the running community. Maybe it was the article on the guy that ran the marathon barefoot to provide shoes for the homeless, or the article in Runner's World that talked about a famous running coach that made his team compete barefoot in the snow (they won!). However, somewhere the spark struck me and kindled a fire.
The next step that added to the flame was downloading an audio version of Born to Run. Listening to tales of ultra marathons, Tarahumara Indians, and a cure for most running injuries, fascinated me. I have not been plagued with injuries, but the idea of cutting joint impact by 50% definitely made me want to give barefoot running a try.
So why was a 40 year old woman with rheumatoid arthritis so willing to give up her precious shoes? Simple, I hate them. Of all the things that disappeared from my life, being barefoot was probably one of the least important, but strangely it was still very emotional. When the joints in my feet are inflamed, it is like walking on marbles and my feet get wider. For two years this meant I could not walk comfortably in anything but trainers with the most cushions that existed. I had to give up all cute shoes, pumps, sandals, boots, anything hard or narrow and bare feet even on carpet.
I grew up in Southern California, 3 miles from the beach. We only wore shoes to school, in the coldest part of winter, and maybe when we went to the store. Even when we wore shoes, they were as minimal as possible. My earliest baby shoes are white leather sandals and my senior year of high school was spent in one single pair of pink OP flip flops that were paper thin by the end of the year, but never blew out. I ran, rode my skateboard, climbed trees, and had my first kiss in bare feet. Bare feet are what feel natural to me, whether it is in my home, on the grass in my yard, or trying to get from the snack shack back to my towel across scorching sand. I mourned being trapped in shoes.
Now, with my RA mostly under control, I'm spending a lot less time in shoes. The thought of carrying that into my running life is exhilarating! The more I read, the more convinced I am that not only is running good, running barefoot is better. Unfortunately, to get my feet back to kid-tough is going to take time. At first it felt crazy, but after my first few tentative walks, being barefoot started to feel more comfortable so I started to do some running. Next, I bought a pair of Vibram Five Finger (VFF) shoes so I could continue to build up the long dormant muscles in my feet while I waited for the soles to get used to the idea. Of course, running barefoot takes a very different form and I immediately went out and practically destroyed my calves by running 3 miles on my toes (not a recommended running form). With my calves finally healed and a few barefoot miles tacked onto the end of my shod runs (I'm sure the neighbors think I'm nuts for running with my expensive running shoes in my hands) I decided I was ready for my favorite trail in bare feet. Fortunately, I at least had the intelligence to carry my VFFs with me in case things got to dicey. Unfortunately, I did not have the good sense to put them on for four miles and now have blisters all over the bottoms of my feet, DUH! I would have been okay if the trail had been all dirt and flat, but this trail is steep, graveled, and I was using my feet as brakes to slow down my very exuberant puppy (who could tow sleds down the street easily).
So now I sit with my feet grumbling, wondering how long it will take them to heal so I can try again. I would love to walk out into the world and never wear shoes again, but I know that is not only socially unacceptable, but also maybe a tad unrealistic when the snow hits. Although I still feel like an uncoordinated dork trying to relearn how to run in bare feet, I do think it is one of the most liberating things I have done in a long time. I believe all healthy people find little ways to revisit childhood, whether it is with roller coasters, race cars, or being silly with our kids. To totally leave behind freedom and frivolity is to die completely inside. I've always loved bucking the trends with clothes, hobbies, or philosophies so to throw away an opportunity to run barefoot through the neighborhood because someone might think it is unseemly, or I might get hurt, seems crazy to me, especially when I now believe it is the far healthier way to run. More importantly, to let barefoot running pass me by would be to deny the child that still lives within me, the one that I need to truly live.

Sometimes winning the battle is enough for today

“The most important thing in the Olympic Games is not to win but to take part, just as the most important thing in life is not the triumph but the struggle. The essential thing is not to have conquered but to have fought well.” **Pierre de Coubertin**


In the wake of my first half marathon, I have basked in my accomplishment, enjoyed the pats on the back, and smiled every morning when I wake up and see my medal on the wall that reminds me I can succeed against the odds. Knowing how far I have come, despite starting over last year and constant infections that stall my training every few weeks, really gives me strength to get through the times when I can’t work out as heavily or at all.

The infections have become a serious concern so I’m changing medication again. As always, this means a month off my main drug with only steroids and pain medication to deal with symptoms. I’m avoiding the steroids as much as possible and have been trying to manage my RA with running. Last week, while reading Jeff Galloway’s book Running Until You’re 100, I came across this:


“Endorphins kill pain, make you feel better
Running at any pace, especially speed training, signals to your body that there will be some pain to kill. The natural response is to produce natural pain killers called endorphins. These hormones act as drugs that relax muscles, helping to deal with the damage and pain, while bestowing a good attitude, especially when you are tired after the run. Walking during the rest intervals allows the endorphins to collect."


I was really excited to put this to the test. In the past, when not feeling well, I tended to run at my slowest speed and just plod along as far as possible. RA saps your energy and exponentially increases inflammation, so even these runs were causing severe fatigue and muscle soreness that shouldn’t have been happening after a light, easy run. I decided this week to try some intervals instead. After running slowly for a mile, I ran comfortably fast for 400m and then walked 400m, for the next two miles. My total time for 3 miles was no slower than had I run at a slow steady pace, but I felt extremely good after the run, energized and pain free! I’ve done this about 3 times now and am amazed at how it makes me feel. It is an effective pain killer without all the side effects. I just wish it lasted a bit longer, or that I could run 3 times a day.

Another fun feature of all arthritis, (rheumatoid, osteo or other), is that the inflammation causes the synovial fluid to literally turn to gel inside the joint. This is why the joints are so stiff, particularly first thing in the morning or after a period of inactivity (like sitting in front of the computer). It is very important to keep this fluid moving so it will lubricate and protect the cartilage in the joint. I have to really focus on how I know I will feel after the run because before I run, the last thing in the world I feel like doing is working out! When I first begin to jog, I can feel the gel in all my joints and my range of motion is limited in some of the joints. I’m stiff and sore, and my body feels like it is made of lead. However, by the end of my first mile, everything is fluid and moving smoothly, even in my wrists, elbows, and jaw. By the time I’m walking my cool down, I’m pain free and can raise my arms and move freely. It may not win the war against arthritis, but it definitely wins the battle for today.

I finally feel like a real runner!

"We don't know who we are until we see what we can do"
**Martha Grimes**


Wow! What a great time! When I signed up for the Shamrock half marathon I didn't realize just how big it would be. There were over 6,200 finishers in the half alone and over 20,000 registered for the full and half combined.

We managed to get down to the area plenty early and found a great parking spot so we were in our coral about 30 minutes early despite running the kids through the restrooms and sending them off with Mr. Dave to watch movies in the van. The first 4 miles were great. We picked a nice cruising speed and ran past the first water stop and a few porta-potties. After about an hour of running we decided to stop at the next potty stop, but the line was really long and not moving at all. We continued on for another half mile and decided to sneak off into the woods rather than stand in line later. I think there were more people running in and out of the woods than there were in the lines!

The temps were good. It was pretty frosty at the start, so I had on my usual "around freezing" layers, which served me well for the entire run, even though it got up to nearly 50 by the end. I drenched in sweat, but never felt over heated and the frequent water and Gatorade stops kept us well hydrated (it will be a while before I can stomach lime Gatorade again). I really felt good the whole way, but running with Amy probably kept me from seriously overdoing it. We took a lot of walking breaks and near the end we were down to "walk to the next street sign, run to the next two." I kept grunting encouraging words, but it was getting harder and harder to get her to keep up with me. When we were about to turn the last corner I pointed out the camera man and told her we had to be running when we passed him! We passed the camera man and the finish line was in sight. Somewhere in the crowd we passed our kids, but we didn't see them. Holding our hands high over our heads we passed under the big balloon arch and over the finish line and heard the announcer call our names over the loud speaker, SO COOL!!!! The volunteers at the end were so great. By then they had been handing out medals, wraps, hats and goody bags for close to 2 hours, yet they all smiled and congratulated us like we were in the first group to pass through.

I'm more amazed now than ever at the people that can give a detailed description of each mile of a race, or even comment every few miles. The whole thing was kind of a big blur. There was the nice part through the woods, the part alone the beach, and the part down the main street that veered onto the boardwalk to the finish line. In the trees I felt great. Along the beach I was slowing but still feeling really prepared. By the street I was numb and focused on keeping my buddy going. Crossing the finish line I cried. I suppose if I had run alone I would have spent more time thinking about each mile and what I thought about it, but it wouldn't have been as fun.

As a runner with RA I felt like it gave me both a distinct advantage and disadvantage. The advantage was that I can totally tune out discomfort for a couple of hours and push myself to limits I would have never though possible. This is also the disadvantage. As I sit here feeling every inch of my body seethe at me for punishing it, I think I may have pushed too hard. I know if I had run alone I would have pushed harder and be worse off now and that scares me a little. I'm not sure I know when to slow down or quit.

Now I'm even more excited about the Outer Banks HM in November! I know I can do better and the 7+ months that I have to train will go fast. I want to run a race every month that my husband is deployed to Afghanistan, mostly 5K and 10K races, but I know I will need the distraction and shorter term goals to keep me from dwelling on his home coming date.

I finally really feel like a true runner!

10 mile run, DONE

It is not by muscle, speed, or physical dexterity that great things are achieved, but by reflection, force of character, and judgment. **Marcus Tullius Cicero**

I almost didn’t do my 10 mile long run. This week has been crazy and I haven’t been feeling well. I realized Friday morning that I had forgotten to give myself my Humira shot on Tuesday, so I was three days late with my medication, which explained why I didn’t feel good. I have also been having stomach issues from the very strong anti-inflammatories I take. Consequently, I haven’t been able to take them for over a week, and it has lead to some RA flaring, but mostly in my shoulders and wrists. I considered waiting to run until Sunday to give the Humira another day to kick in, but the forecast for Sunday was rain and with vacation coming up, I didn’t need to make myself sick to boot. On Friday I talked to my fast-fading running partner. She has strep throat and is on antibiotics, so no running this weekend, but she promises she will be back in the gym and catching up to me while I’m out of town.
I took my run really slow, keeping my heart rate below 65%. I figured if I wasn’t really up to running, my heart rate would let me know. It was definitely not my best run. I felt like lead the first 3 miles, then once I was warmed up, I felt like warm lead. To say I hurt all over would be a bit dramatic, I wasn’t in pain like an injury coming on, but every muscle in my body was rebelling. I felt too tired to run, but my heart rate was low and stayed low so I knew it was all in my head. By 7.5 miles I felt like I mentally couldn’t take another step, it just wasn’t in me, but for some reason I kept going. By this time I was pretty much numb, really fighting with my head to keep going. The street seemed to go on forever, each curve in the road seeming unfamiliar, like I had 100 miles more to get home. At 8 miles I finished off the last sip of my water and wished I had brought more. Apparently I hadn’t hydrated as well as I thought and I was still 2 miles from home. Fortunately, the Cliff Shot I brought had taken care of my rumbling tummy at the 5 mile mark, so I wasn’t hungry anymore, but it left a bitter taste in my mouth that lasted the rest of the run (so much for Mango flavor). By 9 miles my shoulders were killing me. Normally I have pretty pathetic posture. I slouch and don’t stand up straight, but when I run I hold my shoulders back and pump my arms front to back. I thought I was relaxing my shoulders enough, but apparently I was tensing them harder than I thought. I did some shoulder rolls and arm circles, which helped a little, and probably looked pretty odd to passing cars, and then just gave up and kept putting one foot in front of the other.
The last mile was the toughest I’ve ever run. My heart rate was still 65%, my pace was the same plodding 13.5 mpm, but each step seemed to take an eternity. I tried not to watch my Garmin too closely, telling myself not to look until the next mail box, corner, car, whatever land mark seemed far enough away to make me wait a bit longer. I gave up on that too and it is a wonder I didn’t fall flat on my face as I watched my Garmin make its slow count down, 9.97…9.98…9.99….10 miles!!!!! When I stopped running, my legs felt like jelly, but I kept walking around in front of my house to let my heart rate come down slowly. I actually think I could have kept going. I had felt the same for the last 7 miles; a few more probably wouldn’t have been much different. When I got inside, I left a trail of stripped-off accessories, gloves, hat, MP3, empty bottle, all the way to the kitchen where I immediately drank 3 tall glasses of water and a short glass of orange juice.
I did my stretches, still peeling off layers of clothing, and took off my shoes before padding to the kitchen to eat the best tasting bowl of Grape Nuts ever. I felt kind of strange. I was tired, but I’ve been much more exhausted after tempo runs or intervals. I wasn’t sore, but I kind of tingled all over like I had been electrified by the run.
I should have been asleep before my head hit the pillow, but although my body was spent, my mind was running 100 miles an hour. After finally falling asleep some time past midnight, I woke up feeling tired, but not sore or any the worse for wear. I hadn’t over done it, hurt myself, pushed too hard, or overstepped my physical bounds.
I simply did what I never really thought I would, and I think that was the problem. I seem to be a master of mental self-sabotage and I think it was just the idea of running 10 miles that nearly beat me. Doubt was whispering in my ear, buzzing like a droning mosquito in the repressive heat of summer that you can’t find to kill, and you can’t ignore. I really don’t know how I got past it; maybe I’m just bull headed, but I kept running. Not fast, but I ran, and ran, and ran, and now I’ve banished the mosquito for the moment and set my mental bar to a new height. Next challenge: The Nolan Trail X 2.

It is the Journey

It is good to have an end to journey toward, but it is the journey that matters in the end." Ursula K. LeGuin


Of all the runs I’ve done so far, I think this was the hardest to get out the door for. I really, really didn’t want to run today. I had a wicked stomachache from stress over a decision I need to make and my running buddy, Amy, is still sick. She called and croaked an apology to me this morning. Fortunately, it was a pretty nice day. Temps were around 50 with a cloud cover and only a slight breeze, so I had no real excuse not to go and I knew the run would do a lot of good towards the stress.
I decided to run from the house instead of driving to the base to run alone. At least from home I could take the dog with me for the first 5 mile loop and then drop her off to finish. Granted, this meant I would be tempted to end my run early, but I decided to chance it and go. The first 5 miles went well. At the turn around, we paused for a moment to let Lucy play in the water. She is a big chicken and startles at the ripples as they roll up the sand, but she is getting more brave with each visit and is up to slapping the froth with her paws as the ripples collapse in miniature waves around her toes. I wonder if, by summer, she will be ready to plunge in with glee, getting in touch with her water retriever roots.
We stopped twice on the return trip to visit with neighbors, pausing my Garmin so I could keep track of my running pace, and made it back to the house in just over an hour. I had 4 miles left to go, so I made a pit stop, grabbed a Power-gel and some water, and headed back out. Running without the dog is definitely less complicated; I get to focus more on myself and don’t have to worry about tripping on her or reminding her not to pull on the leash. I started thinking that I really could do 10 miles, and spent a few minutes on one of those internal dialogues where good sense battles with ego about whether to do what is smart, or what would be fun to brag about. Fortunately, smart won out and I turned around at the appropriate place. I was glad for it as I started into mile #8.
We really need a good word for the feeling one gets in a joint or muscle that tells you it is working hard, and pushing its limits, but has not yet crossed the line into uncomfortable. That is how my knees were feeling. They didn’t hurt, but I knew they were nearing the end of their tolerance for the day. I frequently get these little twinges. It captures my focus for a while and makes me wary, but so far I have never crossed the line and pushed anything into painful. Often, the sensation goes away and I don’t think about it again. This was another one of those times. As I came into my last mile, on the final stretch home, all the twinges went away and I settled into a comfortable gait. I definitely could have run one more mile, but since home was where it should be, at the end of a 9 mile run, I stopped and cooled down.
Next week I will conquer the 10 mile beast.

The Hard Work You Do...

Perseverance is the hard work you do after you get tired of doing the hard work you already did. **Newt Gingrich**

I didn’t feel much like running this weekend. I had taken a three day break early in the week so I had only run once for 5 miles, but it was a fall back week so I wasn’t too worried. This weekend was scheduled for a 10K, according to Mr. Higdon, but lacking a real 10Kin the area, we decided to just do a 6 mile run. Saturday was Amy’s daughter’s birthday so we spent the afternoon at the skating rink and put our run off until Sunday. Unfortunately, by Sunday afternoon, Amy was miserably sick with the same crud her kids had had all week so I was left to run on my own. I had planned to hit my favorite trail, but it was already so late in the day that I knew it would be packed with walkers and I didn’t’ feel like driving an hour round trip so I just ran around my neighborhood.
We have amazing weather this week and it was in the 70’s when I ran yesterday. I carried water, which I don’t usually do when I’m only running for about an hour, but I knew I wasn’t going to be prepared for the heat so I took water with me and left the puppy home. I passed many smiling faces on foot and on bikes, working in yards, and playing in the open fields. The classic cars that people have been tinkering with all winter in the garage were cruising the streets, warming up the engines, and keeping all the parts moving. This seems to be something that only happens in places that have a real winter. Where I grew up, you could cruise in classics year round, but when we moved to Wisconsin, it was very obvious when the first nice weekend day hit and every classic car for 100 miles was tooling around town.
My run was pretty uneventful until the last mile when I sucked a bug into my mouth. I’m sure it looked like quite the funny dance, if anyone saw me. I was sputtering, spitting, and gagging, with whatever it was hanging onto my tongue for dear life. I finally managed to spit it out, never seeing what it was ( not really wanting to know), and finished my 6 mile run with a 12 mpm pace, despite a few short walking breaks. I’m using my virtual partner on my Garmin a lot more and tend to run a little faster than my set pace, and then allow myself to walk until he catches up after each mile. This week I need to stick to my schedule, be consistent about my stretches, and start back into my ab work whether or not it irritates my abdomen. My back has hit the limit of what distances it will put up with unless I improve my stomach muscles and since an over tired back hurts, and a slightly swollen tummy does not, the back wins.

Some Fires We Choose

You choose to go voluntarily into the fire. The blaze might well destroy you. But if you survive, every blow of the hammer will serve to shape your being. Every drop of water wrung from you will temper and strengthen your soul. **Margaret Weis**

We completed week 8 of training with an 8 mile run, Woo-Hoo!! 8 Miles is the absolute farthest I've ever run so I am officially past where I left off in 2007! Even better, I felt less spent at the end of yesterday's run than I did at the end of my longest run in 2007.
My running buddy is named Amy (she knows she is in my blogs so I'll go ahead and use her name, Hi Amy!!) Amy has been working very hard to get in shape and her co-worker, a Para-rescue Jumper guy (I'll call him PJ for now) has been acting as her personal trainer. Amy invited PJ to run with us, but did warn him that we run really slowly and girl chat the whole time. I'm pretty sure he didn't take her warnings seriously enough and probably won't run with us again, poor guy. We ran so slow that he was in pain so he walked most of the time and easily kept our pace with his mile long legs. Although I'm not sure what was more painful to him, the slow pace or the time when our conversation deteriorated into stories of giving birth.
The run itself went very well. We decided to keep at least a 13 minute per mile pace, and not let things slide to the 14 mpm pace of last week, and actually came in closer to a 12.5. Unfortunately, we took off too fast following PJ's lead and I kept looking at my Garmin, which was saying things like 10 mpm, 10.5 mpm, thinking, "I'm going to die at this pace before we even get to the jogging trail!" We finally convinced PJ to slow down and continued at our snail pace. I had mapped out an 8.5 mile route on base, not realizing it would take us on and off the NASA base, which is all inside the same fence as Langley. As we wandered around the base, we passed horses, and a nature walk that none of us had ever known about, and eventually came to a car gate with a big red stop sign on it. I leaned over the gate to look at the sign on the other side and it read "KEEP OUT, DO NOT ENTER" since we were already on the wrong side of it, we figured what the heck and ducked under it. That was when we crossed onto the NASA research center property. It was a ghost town which made it perfect for running. The only cars we saw were the security cops roaming around and probably wondering what the heck we were doing. I'm pretty sure they were talking about us on their radios because each time we turned down another street there was a cop watching us. I guess they didn't think we were a real threat or they would have asked to see out I.D. cards, but I'm pretty sure they were happier after we passed the security gate back onto the Air Force base.
Shortly after our foray into NASA space, we hit the one hour mark and I broke out the power gels. Amy turned hers down, I think because she was feeling guilty about the doughnuts she at the day before, so I ate mine and pulled out my water bottle. In the process of washing down the last of the gel, I managed to inhale some water and went into a coughing fit that just about ended the run for me. Probably the only thing that kept me going was that I would have had to sit there, freezing, for almost an hour while they ran back to the cars and drove over to pick me up, by then I would have died of hypothermia so I figured I was better off to keep running. Needless to say I had a stitch the rest of the run and my ribs are still sore today.
Around mile 6, I was really beginning to question my ability to finish the run. My side hurt from coughing, my hips were complaining, and another 25 minutes of running seemed like an eternity. I started thinking that training for a marathon didn't sounds like so much fun since training for the HM was quickly losing its charm as it was. I kept going though. Amy got into some kind of Zen zone and left me behind as the focused on some spot on the horizon. PJ, finally able to run at a reasonable speed, caught up to her to tell her to reign it in before she hit a wall, figuratively and literally.
By the last half mile I was actually feeling really good. The boost from the power gel really hit the spot so I wasn't feeling so spent and I could see the end of the run. Amy was now beyond Zen. Her expression was blank, her face was pink, and she wasn't slowing down for anything. She had fallen behind me a bit so I slowed to let her catch up. With about 100 yards left, PJ was standing at the finish line (he had left us in his dust a while back) with his hands out to be tagged. Amy caught up to me and said those famous last words, "Race ya' to the finish!" I took off in a wild sprint that lasted about 10 seconds and then slowed down until I saw her shadow creeping up next to me and then did it again to the finish line. Amy mumbled something about me being cocky and I hollered back something about the power of Gel and we giggled as we tumbled past PJ, who I'm sure was really glad it was all over. As we walked our cool down back to the cars, I realized I had pushed a bit too hard. My knee was tender, a problem I haven't had before. It wasn't bad enough to cause a limp and the pain is gone today, but it was a good warning about doing silly things like racing at the end of a long/slow distance run.
I was wonderfully exhausted at bed time and not in as much pain as I deserved to be. My shoulders were sore because I kicked up my RA carrying 30 lb. dumbbells that I got my husband for his birthday this week, but the joints that take the pounding running felt good. I read an article this week in the new issue of Runner's World about a New York City fire fighter who ran the NYC Marathon after being torn up in a horrible accident. He has suffered so much, been so badly damaged, and been so depressed, that the feat of even walking makes what I battle seem trivial, and yet he hasn't quit and has choosen to face a marathon. So many people find strength in running. People that would otherwise be completely overwhelmed by their problems find the answers in miles spent on the road. Against the odds and against what often seems like common sense, they choose to enter a race and train; they chose to enter the fire. Running has saved me from RA, RA has saved me from myself. I too have chosen to enter the fire.

2009 running miles: 65

Turning 40

In spite of illness, in spite even of the archenemy sorrow, one can remain alive long past the usual date of disintegration if one is unafraid of change, insatiable in intellectual curiosity, interested in big things, and happy in small ways.
**Edith Wharton**


Wow, 40, what a concept! I'm still a young pup to those older than me, and an old lady to those younger. The population around me seems to be split evenly between the two.

My 30's were such a shocking decade to me. I have watched my two daughters grow from babies to young women. I have faced RA and overcome it as an obstacle in my life, and finished my Bachelorette. I've lost my grandparents and been abandoned by a sister and a father, but I have deepened the relationship with the family in my life. I've grown up and grown stronger. I feel ready for the next decade and whatever it brings, but I'm a little scared too. Now I know about the great curveballs that life can toss out and that it is not easy to knock them out of the ball park. I've lost much of the bravado of youth, that false confidence that you can often fool the world with, and sometimes yourself. It has been replaced with true confidence, the kind that comes from real success and not just the belief that I can succeed.

I listened to a book recently, (I love books on MP3,) called 5 Secrets You Must Discover Before You Die. What struck me about the book was not the secrets, because they are pretty obvious, but that they found they needed to pose their interview questions to people over 60. It seemed that before one reaches 60, time is rarely taken to reflect on life. I think that is where runners have an advantage. There are probably other fitness activities that provide time alone to reflect, but running is generally slow, (compared to biking,) and more often than not, solitary. For me it is hard to dwell on negatives when I run. If I do, I tend to run too fast and wear myself out, and then the endorphins kick in and I get over my negative mood. RA gave me the incentive to reflect, running gives me the time to reflect. I think most people reflect after 60 because they find themselves retired with time on their hands. The kids are grown and pressing needs just don't seem so pressing anymore. To achieve this earlier in life takes some sort of jarring event like an illness or accident, either to yourself or someone close to you. This is why I can never look on RA as a disaster; it has inspired me to do so much and enabled me to become so strong, much sooner than I would have otherwise. I would never wish bad events on the people, but I think we need them sometimes to remind us of the important points in life. Family, friends, love, and fun, need to be on our minds far more often than rivals, obstacles, and irritations.

I used to hate the timing of my birthday, but now I see the value in cracking open a fresh new calendar and having it also signal a new age too. I'm rolling into 2009 with a whole new decade ahead of me! There are a few things I know will probably happen in the next decade. I'll wave good bye to my daughters as they go off to college and enter the world as grown ups, we will retire from the military, and we will change houses again and again. What will I learn, what will I accomplish, where will I go? It is all ahead of me and how much joy I find is all up to me.